i begin knowing
my mind is unfit to write
this is why i must
(that haiku was accidental)
the point is the exercise
a compulsion to create
perhaps i will blame
my womanhood for this mess
so too my indulgence
(he tells me wearing less makeup
is the hallmark of a liberated woman
but unknowingly gave me a geisha box)
such thoughts i have when left alone to my own devices
(put batteries on grocery list)
i could easily be sylvia plath
for halloween
i already have the country house
the temperament of a poet
failed marriage(s)
a very dead daddy
dark hair and eyes
a remindful
Mirror
an electra complex
and fabulous heels
(that poem volunteered to grow
within this write like a weed
much the way the sentiment
overtakes the stony path
of my life)
and you
what of you reader
that is what you came here to do
i would hope
read
or maybe not
but the point is you’re here
free will
well and accounted for
and you will walk away
with something for your troubles
there
now we both feel better